


where dreams are made of

by aeroas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fate & Destiny, M/M, Parallel Universes, but also kind of canon? youll understand when you read it Trust Me, she/her pronouns for pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-06 00:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeroas/pseuds/aeroas
Summary: Lance had this reoccurring dream of a castle, of stars, and a promise to find someone no matter how far they are.





	where dreams are made of

**Author's Note:**

> just a little tip!  
> Bold and italicized (did i spell that right? idk man lol) means Keith is speaking, while italicized and underlined means Lance is talking. 
> 
> also! this is my first vld fic! so please be easy on me! i love you!

Lance kept having this one specific dream, one that haunted his mind ever since he was young. This dream came in puzzle pieces, one that only expanded as he grew older. The first time he had this dream he was six years old, one where he was looking out of glass and into  _space,_ a vision so realistic that he woke up the next morning feeling like he could touch the stars. 

The next time he had this dream was when he was ten, where he saw himself overlooking the stars through a glass screen, and then he realized that he was in some sort of spaceship, where the word  _castle_ clicked inside his brain.

When he was thirteen, the dream of him being in a castle spaceship viewing the stars had turned into him being in a castle spaceship viewing the stars with someone else. He never saw the person, or exactly what they were saying, but he could hear the muffled speaking of a conversation next to him, could feel the vibrations in his throat and chest has he responded. 

At fifteen, that muffled conversation turned into static words and a voice that wasn't his own.

_**If we had lived another life from this one, in another universe... do you think we would have--** _

And then his own, 

_I would find you, even if we were galaxies apart._

He woke up abruptly then, his breaths coming out in stutters and his chest feeling impossibly tight. That morning, despite being surrounded by the warmth of his family and friends, Lance felt incredibly alone. 

The conversation didn't continue until he was eighteen. The stars were still there, the castle still surrounded him, the presence next to him was  _red,_ and Lance thought that he would never forget the words that came from this companion in his dreams, words so vividly clear like the stars that burned in front of him. 

_**How could you possibly find me?** _

Lance woke up before he could hear the answer, once again feeling alone and scared. Scared of the emptiness that gripped his heart, scared of the fact that maybe he'll never find the person in his dreams, scared that fate could have guided him in the wrong direction. 

 

* * *

 

"God, it's so fucking _cold!_ " Lance yelled out, frantically rubbing his hands over his arms as he quickly paced through the busy streets of New York. Did he know where he was going? Absolutely fucking not, but that's why Pidge was here. 

"You were the one who wanted to visit NYC for our winter break," Pidge grumbled, her eyes glued to her phone as she kept pace besides Lance, subtly leading them to where the subway station was. 

"'Cause I wanted to see  _snow_ , Pidge, not walk in a giant freezing  _death trap!_ "

"Lance, my man, sacrifices need to be made sometimes. You can't see snow in San Fran weather for a reason." Hunk laughed, clapping his hand on Lance's shoulder. "Besides, I kind of like the cold weather. It definitely gives off the Christmas vibe." 

"I can't believe I have to endure this hell for two weeks. How do people live here all year round?" Lance moaned, completely ignoring the exasperated sighs from his two friends. "I  _knew_ I should have gone back to Cuba, it's been so long since I had my mom's homemade dinners. I bet she's crying over how much she misses me."

"More like she's crying with happiness that you're not there." Pidge snickered. 

_"You leave my mother out of this!"_

_"You're the one who brought her up!"_

 "Oh, look! We're at the station!" Hunk interrupted, quickly steering his two friends underground and towards the correct train as the two continued to bicker. Lance huffed out as he watched Pidge sneakily get the last seat available, giving him a shit eating grin as she sprawled out.

"How's the weather up there?"

Lance gaped. "That's not how the joke works, you little gremlin! You're not even supposed to say that!"  

"You can't tell me how to live my life." Pidge drawled, lazily inspecting her nails.

"I can throw you off out the subway."

"I would sue you."

"You can't sue if your  _dead_ , Pidge. What are you gonna do, hire Satan's lawyer?" 

"Worse." 

Lance quirked up an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Try me." 

"I would haunt you with an obsessive amount of memes you hate the most." 

Lance audibly gasped, causing a few people nearby to look at him strangely. But that didn't matter, because Lance felt  _threatened._

"I can't believe this. That's  _low_ Pidgeon and you know it," Lance glared, causing Pidge to smirk back in return. "Hunk! Can you even believe this atrocity?" 

Hunk looked up from his phone, a confused look on his face as he shifted his eyes between the duo. "Huh? Did I miss something?" 

Lance groaned louder. "Were you even listening, man? Pidge just verbally and emotionally assaulted me." 

Hunk laughed, bring his hand up to the back of his neck as he gave a sheepish grin. "Nah, I was looking up nearby restaurants we could go to. I found this one place that--"

Suddenly, Lance's world went quiet. The voices dimmed, the space on the train blending into a soft white as Lance watched a stream of new passengers shuffle on, his eyes automatically locking onto a certain boy. He looked to be around Lance's age, with creamy skin and dark hair that attractively framed his face. Black skinny jeans, a dark top accompanied by a red jacket, tacky finger-less gloves that Lance snickered at, but oddly found kind of cute. Lance couldn't exactly see the guy's eyes, as he was looking down at the floor, but Lance did see the way his dark lashes rested against his pale cheeks, how thick eyebrows furrowed and lips shaped into a small scowl. 

And Lance was absolutely  _smitten._

He went to go take a step towards the  _very cute_ stranger when his began to pound, words and voices suddenly filling his conscious like a tsunami. 

_**How could you possibly find me?** _

  _Easy. I'd reco-- cut--- any--_

Lance let out a small hiss of pain as he clutched his head. After a few moments and a couple of deep breaths later, Lance looked back up to where the attractive boy was, and immediately scrunched up his nose as he stared at the  _mullet_ he apparently didn't notice the first time. 

_ I'd recognize that haircut anywhere. _

Lance froze, his voice echoing in his head clear as day. Lance stared blatantly at cute boy's mullet, confusion evident on his face as he tried to grasp exactly what was happening. _Haircut?_

Just as the thought passed, more voices flooded in. 

 _ **There's nothing wrong with my hair, you jerk!**_ Laughter.  _ **But what if  we were in a time where everyone had this hairstyle, how would you recognize me then, hotshot?**_

The cute stranger looked up then, his gaze suddenly meeting Lance's. In that moment, Lance felt all the air leave his lungs.

_Well then, your eyes obviously._

**_My eyes?_ **

_Beautiful and intense. Just like you._

The boy looked at Lance with a surprised look, one that quickly shifted into a look of confusion, then--  _wonderment?_ Before Lance could dwell on it for long, the boy suddenly looked away, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he must've realized that he was rudely staring. 

Lance soon snapped out of his daze when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, looking back to see both Hunk and Pidge peering at him questioningly. Lance shook his head and grinned, suddenly feeling tired and heavy. When he glanced back at the stranger, said stranger was visibly gaping at him, causing Lance to straighten his posture and frown. 

Before he could ask, or even introduce himself, the subway pulled into a stop and the stranger collected himself before exiting along with the rest of the passengers leaving, not without a final glance back to Lance. When the doors closed, Lance felt the feeling of loneliness crawl on his skin.

Later that night, Lance dreamt of the castle, the stars, and more missing pieces of the puzzle; 

_How would you recognize me then?_

**_Well, your obnoxious flirting is a start,_ **

_Hey--!_

**_but your smile would be the factor for me, probably._ **

_Really? Why?_

**_It's beautiful and intense, just like you._ **

 

* * *

 

When Lance was thirteen, he told his mother about the boy in his dreams. Of course, she knew that he frequently dreamed of a castle and stars, a dream she dismissed as a normal fantasy for a young boy. When she heard that the dream expanded to gazing the stars with somebody else, she gave Lance the answer he didn't know he needed.

"It could be your guardian angel," She said, her fingers brushing through his hair, "or maybe it's your soulmate. I don't really know,  _mijo,_ that's for you to find out."

Lance knew that soulmates didn't exist. It was a fantasy, a story element. And yet, for some reason, when his mother said that the boy in his dreams could be his soulmate...

It clicked. 

 

* * *

 

 

**_Alright, say we see each other but then suddenly, I don't know, lose sight of each other somehow? And knowing you, you would forget to give me your number,_ **

_Would not!_

**_So we need to decide, like, the go-to-meeting location._ **

_New York City, of course._

**_A big city for us to get even more lost in, great choice._ **

_It's romantic! Finding each other under the lights...!_

**_What lights?_ **

"The city lights, you dork." Lance said, sighing. 

"What the fuck?" Pidge asked, her eyes narrowing at him. Lance felt heat creep onto his face, because  _holy shit_ he just said that aloud, and alarmingly, automatically replied to the conversation that drifted into his head. 

It's been a few days since the incident on the subway, and Lance found himself frequently dreaming during the day. 

It wasn't day-dreaming, nor did he begin to suddenly pass out. Rather, he heard bits and pieces of the conversation from his reoccurring dream of castle and stars during the day. Whether it'd be touring the city, or eating out at a restaurant or clubbing at bars, Lance would randomly get these small bits of conversation drift in his mind, the voices clear and crisp, and often leaving him with his head throbbing. 

And when he was sleeping, he saw dark hair and eyes. 

And in his heart, he knew that he was in this city  _for a reason._ Knew with every inch of his soul that the attractive boy he saw on the subway was the same in his dreams. It wasn't a coincidence that he dreamed more and more, it wasn't strange that the boy was absolutely the cause for Lance's new memories and headaches.

It was  _fate._

 

 

* * *

 

 

**_What about the day?_ **

_Christmas._

**_Christmas Day in New York City; you just get smarter and smarter, don't you, Lance?_ **

When Lance woke up on Christmas morning, his heart was pounding. And he knew, in that instance, that it didn't matter that NYC was enormous, or the fact that it was completely swarmed with people celebrating the holiday, or the fact that Lance had no idea where to even start _looking._  

_**But why Christmas?** _

_Because I have the perfect pick up line--_

**_Oh my god, you're so ridiculous!_ **

It really didn't matter, because Lance knew, deep within, that fate will guide him to Keith. 

 

* * *

 

_But you love me anyways._

**_I do._ **

_How embarrassing._

 

* * *

 

Lance didn't think he was capable of running so hard in his  _entire life_ , and yet, here he was. Running down the streets of New York City on Christmas, without a single destination in mind. He ran, and ran, and ran, and when he finally did see Keith, gazing at the large Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, Lance found himself in  _space._

He saw the galra ships clustered around him, the explosions that flashed against the harsh blackness of space. He saw the castle, fighting and flying through the hands of Allura and Coran. He saw Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro, their lions flying by him in a blink of a second; their voices filled with determination and hope. 

And finally, he saw Keith. Keith, in his red paladin armor. Keith, who was outstretching his hand for Lance to take. Keith, who gazed at him with eyes that pierces Lance's lungs. Keith, who was surrounded by stars and stars, and yet seemed to shine brighter then any of them combined. 

_"Lance! Grab my hand god fucking damn it!"_

And when he did, he found himself back in New York City, standing in front of the very cute subway stranger, standing in front of  _Keith_. 

"Is it Christmas? Because you're the best gift I could have asked for." Lance blurted out, his face becoming a  _very_ red shade of crimson. God, why did he say that?

But it didn't matter, because it was Keith. Keith, his rival. His red paladin, his lover, his soulmate, his fate. Keith, who laughed and threw his arms around Lance and pulling him into a tight hug, mumbling " _I can't believe you actually found me, you idiot."_ And Lance, who laughed with tears in his eyes; 

"Fate will always guide me to that dumb mullet of yours." 

_"It's not a mullet, you piece of--!"_

**Author's Note:**

> dick: out  
> my heart: crying  
> tumblr: aeroas


End file.
